A Night as Long as a Forest’s Path

Alice and her incubus
sucked all poison and mistrust
from out of one another’s
apple-blush; travesties rust
coloured in the summer her
father’s fingers blasted what
love wasted and lust blew up.

Said daughter to dear brother,
Did he touch your heart this much?
at which he up-and-left her;
just whispering, Not enough.
In what dollar could she trust?
Having spent innocence, your
deficit defines your worth.

Knowing this, Alice turned loss
into wealth; burning from his
demon’s breath tongues of silver
with which she could pleasure us.
Nightly he came, visitor
unbidden; his poetess
an unforgiving hostess.

Alice’s silent tutor
could no longer please himself;
girlish tantrums turned sour
each successive hour. Thrust
into her jaws, his Venus
tired of being a flower,
so his fly she devoured.

Womanhood’s early flourish
moved Alice to her chorus;
thrown under her conductor,
when he fucked her, he nourished
what only a ghost’s daughter
could forage from his forest:
courage to face savages.